


You're out of time, and out of luck.

by Beth_Can_Write



Category: Doctor Who, Jack the Ripper - Fandom, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Can_Write/pseuds/Beth_Can_Write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if everything you knew was a lie? If you chase this case to find out the murderer knows nothing? To find the murderer is helping? Sherlock is out of his time with no helpful blogger to guide him, the best he can wish for is a nice man helping him through, but not all murderers are nasty men, a nice man is hard to suspect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're out of time, and out of luck.

**Author's Note:**

> It says multi and rape in the tags because it will come later on in the story, same with the description of gory deaths, it is Jack the Ripper after all..

"John! You know I've been doing all those cold cases?" Sherlock called from the kitchen.  
"Yes, what about it?" John raised an eyebrow over his paper and only looked up when the sliding door opened.  
"I've got the best one," he walked in carrying a box of stacks of paper, "I've found the perfect one! Jack the Ripper!" Sherlock grinned and dumped the box on the table. "I've got all the files from the police archives and I think it'll be done in a few days." Sherlock grinned.  
John sighed and stood up, "when you're done with this let me know because the case of Jack the Ripper is unsolved and always will be." He frowned and walked to his bedroom, leaving Sherlock rifling through the folders.  
"Death reports from 1888. All precise cuts, Jack the Ripper was a doctor, like you." Sherlock looked up from the box and noticed the emptiness. He just shrugged it off and got on with reading the folders.  
~oOo~  
\--1888--  
"Doctor!" A girl shouted.  
The man that was fast advancing wiped sleep dust from his eyes and twiddled his bowtie.  
\--  
A few hours later a police chief was inspecting a body. Deep throat slashes, abdominal and genital-area mutilation, removal of internal organs and facial mutilations were the first things he noticed. "Bert, we've got another ripper victim!" He shouted behind him, a man walked up slowly.  
"Get down to the yard."  
~oOo~  
\--2012--  
"1888 was the first murder and they spanned from then until around about 1891 where he seems to disappear from the face of the planet, whether he died or just stop killing is, as of yet unknown, but a murderer never just stops killing. He had to have incentive. For example a problem that means they can't kill. I think neither of those things. No doctors around that time died, meaning he didn’t die. But, the doctors around that time were all stable and happy therefore nothing bad could have stopped him killing.” Sherlock grinned at John, who’d only come down to make a coffee.  
“So, what happened to him?”  
“I don’t know.” Sherlock frowned and turned back to the cases before there was a knock on the door.  
Sherlock stayed by the boxes and there was another knock on the door. “John, door.” He shouted, his hands ruffling through his hair. He looked up and noticed the room was dark, the flat was silent. John must have gone out.  
“I’m coming!” He shouted as another few knocks were tapped out on the door.  
Sherlock muttered to himself as he walked to the door and when he eventually pulled the door open, he was rather annoyed that he was pulled away from the case so he said, quite bluntly, “What?”  
“Hi. I’m the Doctor.” The man grinned and stepped past Sherlock into the flat, “Have you had any disturbances around this area lately?”  
Sherlock scoffed and rolled his eyes, shutting the door as he did so, “Nothing out of the ordinary, although a few people keep going missing. I’m not on the case yet since I’m half way through a cold one but I’m sure I can find them.” Sherlock shrugged and walked up the stairs.  
“Disappearances?”  
“Yes. One day they’re there, the next they’re gone. Nothing is moved from their houses, they just aren’t there anymore.” He instantly went back to the boxes as he spoke and the Doctor followed.  
“Oh. Okay. So, what’s that then?”  
“This? A box full of cases about Jack the Ripper. I’m trying to find out exactly who he was and why he stopped killing.”  
~oOo~  
\--1888--  
“What did they say, sir?”  
“The witnesses claimed that they heard the lady shouting ‘Doctor’ just before she was killed. A doctor must have killed her.”  
“Or someone using that as an alias.” Someone piped up from the back of the room of officers.  
“What’s your name, son?” the chief asked, pointing to the man.  
“My name? Lestrade, sir, Alfred Gregory Lestrade.” The boy replied. His hair was a light blond colour and he was young, new to the force but he knew this is what he wanted to do, and hopefully what his kids wanted to do, and theirs. But not with these serial killers all over the place so Greg signed up to help stop Jack the Ripper. His daughter was that sort of age so if he could stop this murderer then she’d be safe, he hoped.  
“That is a good point. All those murdered at his hands have been prostitutes, if he gives this alias to those he hirers then, if they escape, they can’t tell us his real name.” The chief nodded and smiled at the young officer. “You, ride with me and tell me what you think of this case.”  
~oOo~

\--2012—  
“What do you mean moving statues?!” Johns voice was incredulous, when he got a phone call from Sherlock he didn’t expect to be told not to blink when near statues. He shook his head as he listened to Sherlock's explanation.  
“Just keep looking at them, if you look away you die and I quite like you being alive.”  
“Yeah, okay, I won’t look away. I got the milk.” John said slowly. For the first time he thought his friend had gone mad.  
“Don’t even blink, John.” Sherlock's voice came through again, panicked.  
“Okay, I won’t blink. I’m nearly home, I won’t blink. Okay, bye.” And with that he hung up and shook his head, closing his eyes and rubbing his face.  
“I said don’t blink.” Sherlock's voice came from the door and John snapped his head up immediately.  
“Jesus, Sherlock, you scared me.” He snapped. He then held up the milk and smiled sarcastically, “happy?”  
“Yes, now get inside.” Sherlock motioned his hands to show that John should hurry up. When he was inside he was virtually pushed up the stairs and then he noticed a man standing in the corner.  
“Hi, I’m John Watson, and you are?” he asked as he walked over to the man and stuck his hand out.  
“I’m the Doctor.” He shook Johns hand and then peered at his eyes, “Are you alright? You seem tired.”  
“No, I’m fine. Long day.” He laughed it off but the moment he sat in his chair he fell asleep. Sherlock rolled his eyes and then looked to the Doctor, he too seemed to be asleep.  
“What’s going on?” Sherlock asked in the general direction of the doctor.  
He turned around and a big, stone angel was at the door pointing to the light. It began flickering and, with each flicker, the angel advance until eventually it was right in front of Sherlock.  
~oOo~  
\--1888--  
“Hello? Doctor? John?” Sherlock stood in the streets, he was just in his flat, he blinked and suddenly he was here. This is what the Doctor had warned him about.  
At that moment a man stepped out of the shadows, he looked just like the Doctor except his eyes, piercing and dark. “Hello, I’m here to kill you.”


End file.
